


Home Schooled

by Eclectic_Goddess



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Post-Movie, Spoilers, yet another groot fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:21:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclectic_Goddess/pseuds/Eclectic_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yeah, like make sure he gets enough light and water and a big enough pot, but also teach him how to walk and talk and the difference between right and wrong and all the growing up stuff.”  Which would be interesting, because maybe with Groot the birds and bees would be a literal thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Schooled

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this and told myself I wouldn't post it because it's so much like my other GotG fic, and like a lot of fics right now...but I'm going to post it anyway, because I broke my toe last night, and now I'm going to miss a race I've been training for for months, and I can't go rock climbing for almost a month, and my foot hurts.
> 
> And baby Groot makes me feel better.
> 
> I promise the next one will be about more than just Baby!Groot feels.

Peter had given up trying to keep Rocket from taking his ship apart. Thankfully, he usually put it back together. Sometimes with fewer parts. And more explosives.

Currently, Rocket was burrowed into the floor of the flight desk, occasionally tossing out a handful of wiring or part of a component. Peter watched him from the pilot’s seat and tried to resist the urge to pat his console reassuringly. They were on route to a station Rocket had suggested, far enough from the Ravagers that they wouldn’t be looking over their shoulders all the time, but still busy enough that they might be able to get a line on a job.

What sort of job, they hadn’t agreed on yet.

A larger piece of conduit flew out of the hatch, clanging against the floor plates as it bounced away.

“Don’t touch that!” Rocket called after it. “I’m going to use it for…something.”

“Something that blows up?”

Rocket poked his head out, eyes narrowed. “Maybe. That gonna be a problem?”

“Nope.” Peter swung back around to face front. To himself, he muttered, “I’ll try to find a cardboard box to put it in.”

A glance over the console told him that their readings were still good. Plenty of fuel. On course. Still no pings from the “Ravager-dar” that Rocket had installed in their communications array.

Movement caught his eye, and Peter glanced over to where Groot’s pot sat wedged by the co-pilot’s seat. The little plant was stretching out new limbs, curling and uncurling tendrils as though testing the movement. He reminded Peter of nothing more than a baby, discovering their own hands and feet. Not that Peter had spent much time with babies. Even the idea made him shudder. 

Then a thought occurred to him.

“Hey, Rocket?”

“What?”

“Is Groot..?” Peter paused to figure out how to say this. “Is he, like, Little Groot? Or Baby Groot?”

There was a snap of electricity arcing, and Rocket let out a yelp. When he emerged from the hatch, he was shaking one paw and glaring at Peter. “What the hell are you babbling about?”

Peter gestured to the pot. Groot’s attention had been drawn to Rocket, and tiny black eyes tracked him as he climbed up onto the deck.

“Groot.” Peter tried again. “Is he, just, you know, small? Or is he actually a… baby… sprout… whatever?”

“He’s Groot, man. He’s not a whatever.” There was acid in Rocket’s voice.

Peter winced at his own choice of words. “No, no, I know. I’m just asking if he’s growing, or growing up. Does he know he’s Groot? Does he remember everything that happened before he…broke up?”

Rocket’s eyes widened. Ears twitching, he came up between the seats. Groot waved two little arms and smiled at him.

“Shit, Quill, I don’t know.” Scrambling up into the co-pilot’s seat, Rocket leaned close to look at Groot. “I don’t really know how he works. He was already big ol’ Groot when we met.”

“He never mentioned being able to regrow?”

“Nah. I saw it plenty of times. Arms, legs, you know. I don’t think it even hurt him. Not the way it would hurt you or me.” Rocket lifted one paw and let Groot curl a fragile tendril against it. “I didn’t think he could come back from this. Not until he sprouted.”

Peter nodded. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of Rocket clutching a twig and sobbing in the ruins on Zandar. Or the sight of Drax petting him gently, though that was a memory Peter swore to keep locked away, lest it someday get his face bitten off by a pissed off space raccoon.

Then Drax had said something about Rocket being a mighty warrior, to have taken in so much of the stone’s power, so much more than he’d expected, and Rocket was staring at the twig in realization. The twig he’d been holding while they were connected. The next thing any of them knew, he’d jumped up and started shouting for someone to get him some water.

Now, here was Little Groot, basking in the starlight and opening and closing his mouth in a way that Peter had come to realize meant he wanted water. Or was it Baby Groot?

“If he’s just little, then I guess we just need to make sure he gets what he needs to grow big again, and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.” Peter doubted that, but it was easier to say. “If he’s a baby, then I guess we have to raise him.”

“Raise him?” Rocket cocked a doubtful eyebrow.

“Yeah, like make sure he gets enough light and water and a big enough pot, but also teach him how to walk and talk and the difference between right and wrong and all the growing up stuff.” Which would be interesting, because maybe with Groot the birds and bees would be a literal thing. Peter let himself ponder that for a moment.

Rocket shrugged. “Well, how hard could that be?”

“Don’t look at me, man. When I was a little kid, I was kidnapped by space pirates who kept threatening to eat me. And Gamora’s family was murdered and she was raised by a mad titan. We’re not exactly experts on what makes for a happy childhood. Drax had a daughter. Maybe he…”

Gasping, Rocket pulled the pot into his lap and wrapped both arms around it. Groot swayed with the movement, arms still waving.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool.” Peter said quickly. “Like you said, how hard can it be? You teach him to talk, or how to say ‘I am Groot’ I guess, and how to take stuff apart and put it back together so it blows up. Gamora can help him with his motor skills, and how to walk when he gets out of the pot, and how to kick people in the face when they least expect it. Drax’ll probably just teach him how to pick people up and drop them on their heads, but, you know, useful. Between the four of us, we’ll figure it out.”

There was a stiff, thoughtful silence in the cockpit. Rocket retrieved the canteen they kept stashed between the seats and shook out what was left over Groot. He twisted happily under it, opening his tiny mouth wide to catch a few drops.

Eventually, Peter said, “I’m gonna to teach him to dance.”

Rocket rolled his eyes and threw the empty canteen at his head.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, I'm not totally sold on the current internet theory about Rocket holding Groot's twig when he's connected to the stone. I watched for it the last time I saw the movie, and couldn't spot the twig. But it works for this fic, so I left it alone.


End file.
